Door
What would you conceal?
Or open to. Could you unfurl
your fist to daylight
and shudder loss away — one key,
one digit, one death — presuming the universe
and all its hinges available for inspection
behind yet another unlatched presence.
And this spinning disk,
how shall we step off? Every moon
sheds its coat. Listening, I turn the knob.
“Door” first appeared on the blog in September 2016.
Always clever
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Thank you, John.
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There so much to it than just a knob. Nicely written.
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There is, indeed. Thank you, Fujiko.
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I enjoyed your piece so much so that it inspired me to try my own hand. I liked its expansiveness and retraction. Like the universe itself, maybe. Your personification of the door: the fury of the door’s fist while its closing off of its the pangs and pains, the questioning of the universe and whether it was open for inspection, a mirroring of the door itself, and how you bring us back as individuals standing behind the door, a door, waiting, anticipating, perhaps to see, to listen, to discover for ourselves. So much in so few words. Thank you. Very nice.
Your impression on me is captured here: https://thewritersvillage.wordpress.com/2017/09/09/this-door/ – if you care to visit.
Randy
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I’m so pleased you liked it, Randy. And thanks very much for the link.
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I have a fascination with doors as my pinterest will testify. Beautiful as always.
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They are fascinating. Thank you, Barbara.
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What a beautifully written poem. I am following your blog religiously.
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Thanks very much!
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Amazing!
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Thank you!
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Beautiful poem.
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Thank you, Kenneth.
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I felt you almost created a revolving door, but the poem remained firmly hinged.
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There’s something to be said for good hinges!
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could feel the knob turn….
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Thanks, Yvette. It turns, but slowly… 🙂
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😉
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The universe always awaits. (K)
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Behind every door!
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Very nice.
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